The Melody of Blood and Lament
For Barbecos, a captain who had spent the last forty years of his life upon the waves, the current situation made his long career feel utterly meaningless.
If he were to return to Corinth and tell this tale, who would believe him? Not only had he received supplies and weaponry from the stubborn, arrogant warships of Athens, but he was now being escorted by those very same Athenian vessels—all the way out of Athenian waters and toward the colossal statue of Poseidon that marked the true beginning of the Sea God’s domain.
If he were to recount this in the harbor taverns of Corinth, everyone would laugh, claiming he had clearly heard Dionysus preaching abstinence.
Yet, this was merely the prelude to the most bizarre voyage he would ever undertake...
“Abandon ship!!”
“Po, Poseidon! Have mercy!”
“Hey!! You bastards, you’re just food for the crows!! Do you know who I am? I’m Poseidon’s nephew!!”
BOOM!
Every time the hulking youth standing proudly on the deck shouted and hurled his spear, a thunderous roar shook the very foundations of the sea, as if a lightning bolt had struck the water.
“Hieeeek?!”
Whether it was the shockwave or the fact that the youth had truly imbued his spear with the power of Zeus, the result was the same. Once the blinding flash subsided, the spear in the youth’s hand would vanish, and in its place, whatever pirate ship or warship that had been charging them would be slowly sinking beneath the waves.
“Hahaha! A sacrifice for Poseidon!”
“...My god.”
But that was not the only thing that defied belief.
“You wretch! How dare you come alone...”
Slash!
“My name is Ares’...”
Slash!
“Me, mercy...”
Slash!
“Kiiiaaak! Mo, monster...”
Slash!
While Heracles was busy sinking the smaller vessels attacking from the port side, Iason—who had been standing perfectly still—vanished the moment a medium-sized ship latched its grappling hooks onto the Poseidon’s Wave.
Barbecos looked around frantically, wondering where the man had gone, or if he had fallen overboard. He soon realized the young hero’s location by the screams and the sound of flesh being torn apart on the ship docked right beside them, though he dared not look to confirm it.
Yet, even this was not the most terrifying sight Barbecos witnessed on this voyage.
~Pluck, strum~
That sweet, melodic sound of an instrument.
The fact that such a beautiful and strange melody could ring out in the middle of the Aegean Sea—a hellscape where divine wrath and heroic slaughter were unfolding simultaneously—made it all the more terrifying.
When he trembled and looked up at the main deck, he saw a dark-haired man playing joyfully on a strange, tree-trunk-like instrument.
Was he a son of Aphrodite? He was beautiful enough to make one wonder. Sitting there with his eyes closed, peaceful and unbothered by the raging storm and the cacophony of screams, he seemed divine, yet his sheer dissonance with the surroundings made him appear grotesque.
But the moment the man began to play, all such thoughts were swept away like the tide, and his mind was filled only with the music.
Ting-a-ling! Pluck! Pluck!
It flowed into his ears like honey, yet it brought with it an inexplicable, chilling sensation.
Thump! Ta-ra-ra-rang!
Like the war drums of an advancing army, it hammered against his heart, filling his entire body with vitality. Every time the man’s fingers brushed the strings, Barbecos could only lament the way his own heart raced and slowed in this moment of crisis.
“My god... Is it true that he actually defeated Apollo in a musical duel?”
The rumors that had drifted over from Arcadia—tales of a performer draped in the night and a bard who held the sun—had seemed like nothing more than exaggerations by wandering poets. Yet, the story was unfolding right before his eyes.
“Ughhh...”
Even on this blood-drenched sea, the music that forced him to listen against his will was more terrifying than the divine power of Heracles or the lethal sword of Iason. The man’s performance was enough to make even a Siren bow her head in shame. He was something beyond a superhuman or a hero—an enigma. It was as if something that merely wore the beautiful skin of a human had taken over his ship for a pleasure cruise.
“The scent of blood hangs heavy on the sea breeze, and the screams are plentiful, yet the music is sweet beyond compare. The mood is high and the fragrance deep; I envy not even the banquets of Olympus!”
Pluck!
Hahaha!
To make matters worse, there was a woman with a veil clinging to his side, laughing as if she were having the time of her life. She was undeniably beautiful, with deep pink hair that seemed to have come from Aphrodite’s rose garden, but the sight of her draped over him made Barbecos feel as though his breath were being stolen away.
‘No wonder we’ve only run into stupid pirates this whole voyage...’
While not as dangerous as the outer reaches of the Oceanus, at this time of year, the seas were usually teeming with the spawn of the Kraken and Ceto, or Sirens out for a stroll, leaving no room for a quiet voyage. It was strange that there had been no attacks by magical beasts, only pirates—perhaps they, too, had felt the same terror as Barbecos.
“Ugh... Gods of the heavens, spirits of the underworld. Please, I beg you, protect this voyage...”
“Captain.”
“Hieek!?”
At some point, the music that had been tearing at his sanity ceased, and a calm voice roused him. When the captain lifted his head, trembling, he saw a figure of terror looming over him, his expression hidden by the backlight of the sun.
“How is it?”
“Yes? Ye-yes! It, it was a beautiful performance! A performance that would have made even Apollo admire it!”
Barbecos shook his head like a leaf in the wind, heaping praise upon praise, but for some reason, the dark-haired musician only tilted his head, looking unsatisfied.
“Hahaha! What do you expect from people who wrestle with Poseidon and bicker with Amphitrite?”
“No, I didn’t mean to ask for a critique...”
‘Wh-what? What is he trying to ask?!’
Was this how it felt to face the riddle of the Sphinx on the mountain pass of Thebes? This was a hero who had toyed with people on this rough sea with nothing but music. Taking his life would be easier for this man than drinking a cup of wine.
‘Is he tired of playing while watching blood, so he intends to drink wine using my screams as an appetizer?’
Barbecos felt dizzy, as if all the blood were draining from his body. But the man, tilting his head again, simply asked in a tone of genuine curiosity.
“I’ve been observing, and the water is getting shallower, and the wind and waves are calming down, so it seems an island will soon appear. Do you happen to know anything? I am merely asking that.”
“...Yes?”
Barbecos, who had been expecting a terrifying question like “Scream for me,” or “Choose between your arm or your leg,” was so stunned that he couldn’t help but repeat the question. The man had even set aside his instrument to ask him as a captain.
“Well? Are we already nearing the island of Chora?”
Roused by the question, Barbecos pulled out a map and scanned the course and terrain.
“Uh, well, that is...”
“What? I thought you were a skilled sailor. Do you really need to open a map at this distance?”
“Don’t mind him, take your time. It’s fine.”
“Yes! Yes! I, I am grateful...”
The woman, who had been leaning her head on the man’s shoulder with a venomous look, glared at Barbecos, but the man pushed her head away with his finger and comforted the captain.
‘Ugh...!’
That the very existence he had feared so much would protect him... It was as if Poseidon himself were shielding him. An inexplicable sense of reassurance bolstered his spirit, and he was able to make a quick calculation.
“Hmm... Yes, perhaps, Great Hero... no, the island you saw ahead is likely Chora.”
Although it was not an island belonging to Athens, Chora, which served Athena despite being in the middle of the Aegean, was the entrance and final resting place for the long voyage toward Crete, the home of the gods, and the nameless archipelago that was the home of the ancient monsters.
‘But even with Zephyrus adding his wind, it’s a distance that should take at least half a day more...’
He wondered if the man had known in advance and was testing him, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
‘Does he have the power of prophecy?’
“It’s not the power of prophecy.”
“Hieek!?”
It was as if the man had peered into his very thoughts. Barbecos was so startled by the man’s voice answering his internal question that he nearly hiccuped.
“I merely spread the sound to drive away the magical beasts, and I guessed based on the echoes that returned. But seeing that it was correct... I suppose I need to practice more, but my instincts haven’t completely withered yet.”
“Ye, yes, yes...”
Barbecos couldn’t understand a single word of the man’s mutterings, but he was already on the verge of giving up.
‘How could a mere human ever read the mind of a god!’
Once he decided that, Barbecos felt his heart settle. In any case, since he had set out as a sailor in this Greece, life and death were all in the hands of the gods. Even if the god before his eyes chose to display his power in the form of a human, using human talents, how could a mere mortal ever fathom his intent?
“We, we will arrive soon. Please, noble one, rest comfortably...”
“I shall. Let’s see, this time... shall I play a lively Lion’s Dance? Or, since we are out on the open sea, perhaps the Song of the Distant Valley?”
“Play something more exciting! The son of Zeus and the greatest swordsman of the age are showing off their prowess, so we must raise the spirits!”
“In that case, the Lion’s Dance of the Sliding Flame would be good. Let’s see...”
Ting-a-ling!
Crack!
The white fingers danced gracefully over the strings, and the last ship remaining on the sea snapped its mast, signaling the start of the song.
“Yo, you... you devils...! The curse of Tartarus shall be upon you!”
Glug.
Leaving behind only the final gasp of a pirate sinking into the sea, the Poseidon’s Wave continued on its way, accompanied by a melody so beautiful it would have made even a Siren blush.